The Sound Of Little Paws
by blacksouledbutterfly
Summary: Ariadne decides they should get a pet.


"We should get a pet."

And that's how the whole thing started. One year, three months and two days after they had begun dating Ariadne suggested that to him. It was three months after they had moved in together that it came up. She was sitting on the couch in their little apartment watching television when she came out with it.

Eames paused in lifting his teacup up to his mouth when she said that. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes widened a bit. He hadn't expected her to say that anymore than he had expected them to develop a relationship. But develop a relationship they had. They had all but fallen into each other one day after a job, had went out for drinks afterwards and things fell into place after that.

And then, as soon as they had fallen into each other, it got very intense. Whenever Eames was away working a job he spoke to her every night, called her on his phone while he lay in his hotel room, head resting against the pillow. He would talk to her about everything, how things were with him, his childhood. And she would share her childhood with him. And sometimes, just sometimes when he felt particularly naughty he would tell her exactly what he wanted to do to her when he was back with her, lying in her apartment.

It was three months ago they started that type of a relationship when Ariadne suggested that they should live together. To her it just seemed like the most logical choice. He hadn't been spending much time in his home in Mombasa anyway. When he wasn't working he tended to spend most of his time when he wasn't working with her. He would spend nights either at her apartment or a hotel there anyway. And so she thought it made perfect sense for them to live together.

So she told him that they should move in together. They were lying in bed together, her head resting against his naked chest, his fingers running through her hair. She had closed her eyes and listened to the beating of his heart, a comforting rhythm that she was used to by now. And she had been so, so comforted by that sound that she had decided that she wanted him to be with her any night that he wasn't away from her working for another crew. And so she told him that she wanted them to move in together.

And his fingers had stilled in her hair and she had been so, so afraid that she had said something wrong, that she had pushed him away with that. And so she had opened her eyes and looked up at him with barely contained fear in her eyes. Her heart felt like it was in a vice grip and then, as soon as she felt ready to open her mouth to tell him to forget about it, that it was just a stupid spur of the moment idea he smiled at her and his fingers started to brush through her hair again and he just asked her when she wanted him to move in.

Since then they had lived in something that was akin to wedded bliss though they weren't married and hadn't even considered getting married. They were content with things the way that they were. In the mornings she would make coffee for her and tea for him and they would eat eggs sitting at the little breakfast nook in their apartment. They'd have lunch together as often as they could; he'd sit there and watch her while she worked on her college assignments, while she worked on designs for their jobs. And sometimes at night he would make her dinner, sometimes she made it. And sometimes, when they were feeling particularly lazy or they couldn't keep their hands off of each other until after dinner they'd fall into bed together and once they had caught their breath again they would order in.

Since the day that they had moved in together they had lived a very happy life. But as time went on and he was away from her for jobs she started to feel lonely without him. Sure, she was perfectly aware that he had a job to do and she supported it. She, after all, worked in the same line of work. But she had found herself missing him there with her, missed the sound of his heart beating in his chest as a hollow sound in her ear.

And so she had decided that they should get a pet, something they could both love and care for; something that she could hold dear when he was away. She hadn't wanted to suggest marriage- they weren't ready for that- or children- they were most definitely not ready for that- so she had thought a pet would be the best choice for them. And that's why, sitting on their couch, she had decided that it would be a good idea to bring it up.

And that's why Eames is sitting on the couch with his teacup half raised to his mouth, his eyes wide as he looks at her because she had never, ever brought that up to him before. She had never even mentioned the idea of a pet so honestly it had seemed to come out of left field, at least to him.

It isn't that he's against the idea though. As a matter-of-fact, he thinks that a pet may do her some good. He's out of the country a lot of the time and that leaves her alone in the apartment. He tries to keep in touch with her, he really does. He calls her as often as he can to let her know that he's alright, to let her know that everything is fine with him. The last thing he wants is for her to worry about him, to think that something horrible happened to him while he was away from her.

He has to admit that he doesn't much like leaving her alone in that apartment. Of course he knows that Ariadne is a full-grown woman and is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But she gets so lonely when she's in that apartment alone. He knows that she does. and not because she's ever said as much to him- she never says anything of the sort to him- but because as soon as he walks through the door she all but pounces on him, wraps her arms around his neck and launches herself at him, planting her mouth against his. And yes, they're quite an amorous duo to begin with but it's the way she does it, the look in her eyes like she was absolutely sure that she wasn't ever going to see him again.

After a moment he clears his throat and runs his tongue over his full bottom lip, reaching over and putting his teacup down on the table so that he doesn't end up dropping it. Settling back against the couch he wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her against his side, his fingers sifting through her hair. "That sounds like a good idea," he muses. His fingertips brush against the side of her neck, her pulse beating beneath the pads for a moment, just a moment.

"Had you considered what type of pet?"

The young architect's eyes close as she thinks about that, not really sure about that. She hadn't actually thought about that, just that she had wanted to get a pet to keep her company. And, of course, for them both to enjoy when he was home. But now that he's asked her that she has to actually think about it.

"How about a cat?" she muses, opening her eyes back up and looking up at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement and that's simply because she honestly doesn't expect Eames to be alright with the idea of having a cat. For some reason he strikes her more as a dog person than a cat person though he can't honestly say why. And so she's just waiting for him to have a reaction that would amuse her.

Eames looks down at her, arching both of his pale brown eyebrows at her, watching her quietly for a moment as though he were trying to decide whether or not she's serious. And then, after a moment, he nods his head a little bit. "Alright," he says after a moment and then smiles at her. "If you want a cat then we can get a cat."

"Really?" She sits up a bit, moving away from him just enough to look at his face, putting herself more level with him, dark eyes jumping across his face. She blinks at him numbly for a few moments. "You wouldn't mind having a cat?"

"Not at all. Did you honestly think I would?"

"Maybe," she admits. "Just a little."

"Well, I don't," he assures her, brushing his fingers through her hair again. "Get whatever pet you want to, darling. I can assure you that no matter what type of pet you get I will adore it just as much as you do if not more." He takes her chin between his thumb and index finger, leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "After all, you're gonna be spending more time with this pet than I am, you know. It'll keep you company while I'm away from you."

"This is true," she muses, closing her eyes as his lips touch her forehead.

"So you chose what you want and that's what we'll get. Alright?"

"Alright." 

* * *

><p>Picking out a pet wasn't something that he thought would be quite so difficult. He had thought she would go to the shelter like she wanted and would pick out a pet rather easily. But it wasn't quite that simple. Actually, she had spent quite some time walking through the shelter looking in every single cage, at every single cat inside, sticking her fingers through the cage so that she can stroke the top of their heads with the tips of her fingers.<p>

For the most part he's just hung back and decided to let her go about her business, look at all of the cats and try to decide which she liked best. He asked her a couple of times if she had decided yet what she was going to do, which cat she was going to pick but she hadn't decided yet. And so, after a moment he had leaned down and kissed her cheek and told her to get him when she came up with a decision.

And so that's what he's doing, wandering around when he hears her calling his name, her voice echoing slightly in the mostly empty building, over the sounds of the animal in their little cages. Turning around he heads back over to her, watching her standing there in her brown sweater with this tiny little kitten in her arms, its little orange head peering out from over her arms.

Walking back over towards her he watches her face for a moment and once he's there he reaches down and strokes the top of the little kitten's head with one finger. The thing closes its bright green eyes and tilts its head into the feeling of the touching.

"So, is this the one you like?" he asks her. His gaze lifts up to her face, watching her looking down at that tiny little creature in her arms while his fingers keep brushing over the kitten's head. There's something so innocent about the look on her face, something so childlike, something that he can't really explain but he has never seen on her face before. It's not so much the happiest look he's ever seen on her face but it's a happy one, one that's like she was a little girl again for a moment.

"Do you like her?" she asks him, lifting her dark eyes up to meet his gaze, brushing her fingers over the kitten's back in the same way he's brushing the fingers over its head. In Ariadne's arms the little kitten lets out this tiny little mewling sound and his gaze goes back to it, looking down at the orange kitten's green, green eyes looking up at him so, so innocently.

"She's beautiful," Eames tells her, still running his fingers over the orange-stripped head. "So, have you made a choice, luv?"

"Maybe." The young woman looks up at him for several moments, watching his face and then, without so much as another word, she hands the kitten over to him, watching his eyes widen a bit as she passes it to him and watching him get a grip on it so he doesn't drop it, looking down at the tiny little critter in his arms.

He looks down at the tiny little kitten in his arms, looks at its little face gazing up at him, eyes wide and almost full of wonder. It feels so delicate in his arms that he's afraid that he's going to crush it. but the kitten keeps looking up at him with those bright green eyes and then, after a moment, its eyes close and it rests its head on his arm, its little paws needing at the sleeve of his jacket. The kitten's body starts to shake, a dull purring sound resonating through its body.

Ariadne watches him quietly for a moment and then, after that moment passes and she sees how content that kitten it she smiles at him. "So, do you like her?"

He keeps his gaze on the kitten for a couple of moments before he looks up at her, some amusement dancing in his eyes and he nods a bit. "She's wonderful."

Ariadne just smiles. 

* * *

><p>He had been gone for three weeks. He was on a job in Tucson with an entirely different team than the one they work in together. He had called her as often as he could since he had left. If not every night than every other night when possible. His voice filtered through the phone like a ghost from the past coming to haunt her, to remind her that he wasn't there in her home.<p>

She went about her every day business. She made herself coffee (made tea for him out of instinct and then ended up pouring it down the drain) and went to work. And when she got home she would fill the cat's food dish and fix herself dinner. And when that was all done she'd sit down on their couch and the kitten would climb up into her lap, curl up into a little ball and just lay there purring. They had only had her for two months but she had already grown accustomed to his presence and without him there she would look at his side of the closet like she was waiting for him to walk in and pull something out of it.

Two weeks after she left and Ariadne had spent the night watching a cheesy old romantic movie on the TV set in the bedroom, curled up under the covers, lights out. But the movie is done now and she had turned off the television to let herself be encompassed in the darkness, knowing he said he'd be home soon but not knowing _when_ that might be.

She's almost asleep when she thinks she hears the front door opening but she does this all the time, imagines him walking into the apartment when he's not, just when she's about to drift off. And so she ignores it, clenches her eyes shut tighter against the sounds in her head, reminds herself how often she does this.

And it isn't until the other side of the bed dips under the weight of a body that she opens her eyes and sees him climbing beneath the sheets, his close still on but his shoes already discarded. She slides over towards him, puts her hand on his neck, draws his mouth to hers.

On the floor a mewling sound breaks through the silence of the room.

Eames moves away from her to roll over, looking down at the little pair of glowing eyes gazing up at him. he sighs a bit, weary from jetlag and reaches down, scooping the little furry animal into his hands and then rolls back over so he's facing Ariadne, placing the kitten down between them.

"Alright," he muses quietly to the little animals as it kneads at the comforter. "I suppose you want to sleep in bed with us now that Daddy's home, do you?"

"We'd both like that," the architect says.

And in the darkness the forger smiles.


End file.
